


Blood Lust

by emsmittens



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alpha Scott, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Beta Peter, Blood Kink, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Monster of the Week, Not Beta Read, Vampire Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:55:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25474972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emsmittens/pseuds/emsmittens
Summary: There were only two things Stiles knew for certain: Peter Hale is a thorn in his side and vampires are assholes.AKA The one where it took Stiles turning into a vampire to realize he's attracted to Peter.
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 6
Kudos: 232





	Blood Lust

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, lovelies! 
> 
> I had this idea of vampire Stiles stuck in my head for way too long. Hope you enjoy :)

Stiles nibbled on a spare, empty pen as he carefully flipped through an old bestiary. He was lost in thought, more so than usual. Research seemed to be the only escape from his problems now-a-days. His main problem right now is Peter Hale. As usual, the wolf was a thorn in the Hale-McCall Pack emissary's side. Peter insisted that he had to spend a lot of time with Stiles to research and plan out attacks, as he was the pack’s enforcer. 

However, all they have ever done during their planning hours was argue about petty things. These spats would reach a head when Stiles called Peter a ‘were-zombie’ and when he would call Stiles a ‘puny human.’ Luckily, when the pack was truly in trouble, the two could put aside their differences for the better good.

The pack was really in trouble recently, dealing with a pissed off female vampire that kept picking fights with the various members of the pack. No matter how much they tried to reason or run it out of town, it always came back to Beacon Hills and attacked unsuspecting hikers. Humans never remembered the attack, thanks to vampires’ abilities to change memories and the quick heal times of their bites. The woman was strong too, able to easily fend off Peter and Derek at the same time. 

Speaking of Peter, he has been silent for a while. Stiles looked up across the rebuilt Hale Pack library.

Peter was asleep. His mouth was slightly open, showing off his perfectly white teeth in the low lights, and he was sprawled across the old stained-brown loveseat. The book that he was supposed to be reading was long forgotten, laying on the werewolf’s chest. Stiles shook his head, almost fondly, as he turned back to his own reading. It was talking about something that interested Stiles very much: hemomancy, magic that manipulates blood.

* 

Stiles yawned as he stepped over a rather large rock that was in the middle of the hiking trail. He was tired but, judging by the position of the looming half-moon, the task was almost done. The wind blew and Stiles zipped up his red hoodie with a shudder.

Isaac, his patrol partner, was on the perpendicular trail and they were due to meet at the corner in the next half hour. According to the alphas, Derek and Scott, they were supposed to stick together during patrol thanks to the vampire. The teenagers decided not to obey this part of the order. After all, the pack hasn’t seen, let only smell, the creature for a week now.

Up ahead, the underbrush moved suddenly and caused Stiles to stop in his tracks and cock his head, listening. The rustling stopped and the surrounding forest was uncharastically silent. Figuring that it was his packmate, Stiles relaxed and rolled his eyes. “Aren’t you a little bit too old to sneak up on the pack’s human? It was cute when you first joined but now it's useless. Come out, Isaac.”

A figure slowly emerged from the darkness. As the moonlight hit their face, Stiles’ felt a chill run down his spine. With dark red eyes and porcelain-like skin, there was no mistaking it. She was the vampire. Stiles opened his mouth to scream, but she was quicker. By the time he opened his mouth she was already in front of him, roughly clamping down a hand on his mouth while the other pulled at his long bangs, causing him to show his neck to the predator. 

Not even a second passed before she began feeding, plunging her six sharp canines just behind the carotid artery. Amazingly, the only pain that the human felt was the claws on his face as he struggled against the attack. 

Eyes drooping, Stiles started to feel dizzy as his knees weakened. Without thinking further, he bit down as hard as he could on the palm tight against his mouth. The bitter taste of blood and a wailing scream were the last things he sensed before crumbling down into the mud.

*

Crimson and onyx waves lazily circled around, completely clouding Stiles’ vision. He sighed in exasperation as he rubbed his eyes vigorously with his palms. Opening his eyes after the assault, he was greeted with the sight of clawed hands. The unnervingly white hands decorated with black talon-like claws wiggled. His hand. It was his hand. Trying not to panic, Stiles controlled his breathing and counted the fingers. Eleven fingers. It was a dream.

Now calm, he raised his head to look around his location. It was just a small, bright white room. Turning around, Stiles expected to run into one of the usual characters of his nightmares. Instead, in the middle of the room, was a shadow man with little to no features relaxing against the wall. Stiles opened his mouth, in order to yell at himself to wake up, but failed to make a sound after the man held up his hand with a kind smile. 

As if he could hear Stiles’ bubbling questions, the shadow dropped the hand. It began to talk. “Hello, child. My name is Vladacus. I am the father of all vampires.”

Stiles winced and squinted his eyes from the pain that the powerful voice caused him. The shrill whispering scream made him shake in fear as every hair on his body stood alert. 

Paying no mind to his impact on Stiles, it continued. “I am coming to you in this dream to welcome you to your new life of the shadows. Hopefully, your turner intended for you to become one of us. If not, well, this will be a hard life for you.”

If the being had a face, Stiles was sure it would be smirking at him right now. “I’m going to kill you,” Stiles managed to grit out between his teeth. 

“Sadly, I can’t look forward to that. I’m reaching out to you from purgatory, my child.”

The room began shaking and cracks started to appear across the walls and floor. Multiple normal voices were calling out, overwhelming Stiles as he shakenly fell to his hands and knees. Looking back up, the shadow called Vladacus was gone.

*

Jerking away from the nightmare, Stiles woke up with a start. He calmed down once he recognized the familiar living room of the pack house. Unsure how he passed out on the comfortable couch again, Stiles threw off the heavy quilt that someone put on him. His calmed-down state didn’t last long.

“Don’t move,” whispered a deep voice, far too close to Stiles’ ear.

Whipping his head towards the voice, Stiles found himself almost nose-to-nose with a solemn-looking Peter who was sitting on the floor. Confused by the order and that emotion on Peter’s face, Stiles mumbled, “wha,” voice rough from sleep.

Peter's face softened as he pressed a firm hand on Stiles’ chest, to which the teenager raised an eyebrow at the action. He swallowed thickly before speaking again. “I’m not sure how to tell you this so I’m just going to say it. You’ve been turned into a vampire.”

Stiles' eyes widened as he thought back to his dream. What did that shadow say? Something about vampires? He shook his head to get rid of the thought and said, “Stop pulling my chain and let me leave, Creeper-Wolf.”

“Are you hungry?” Peter asked as he pulled out a package of fresh curly fries from nowhere.

Not bothering to dignify the dumb question with a smart ass response, Stiles just plucked one of the fries into his mouth. Almost immediately, he gagged and spit them out onto the floor. They tasted rotten and sour, worse than anything he has ever tasted before. 

“Just listen to me…”

Finally believing his packmate, the young vampire sunk deeper and deeper into the depths of his mind as Peter explained what went down a few nights ago in the forest from Isaac’s point of view. About how Stiles was attacked. About how Isaac got there at the last moment and killed the vampire as she was draining Stiles. About how the werewolf looked down and saw that his packmates’ mouth was already full of her blood.

Cutting Peter off, Stiles softly asked “so, when will you kill me?” He didn’t respond. Stiles continued louder this time. “That’s why you’re telling me the story, right? Instead of someone else. So you can kill me afterward without feeling any remorse.”

“No,” Peter almost yelled as he pushed down harder on Stiles’ chest. 

Angry, hopeless tears threatened to fall from Stiles’ eyes that were glaring at the other man. “I’m a monster.”

Giving Stiles almost a sad smile, Peter quoted one of his alphas, “not all monsters do monstrous things.”

Stiles willed his tears to dry up before they trailed down his face, refusing to show more weakness in front of Peter. “I still need to feed. On blood. Human blood. You should know that. We researched it together. Vampires can only feed on humans or humanoid creatures.”

Peter shrugged nonchalantly, as if Stiles just told him the weather for the rest of the week, and pulled out a knife. Without waiting for a reaction, Peter lifted his hand from Stiles’ chest, slit a small section of his wrist, and held it up to Stiles’ mouth.

The sickly sweet smell overwhelmed Stiles as he snarled from the intense temptation. Triggered by blood, his new canines dropped from his gums. Stiles bit down on the offered flesh on instinct. Blood filled his mouth and he greedily sucked and licked the wound, begging for more before it closed up. Getting the final drop, Stiles’ eyes opened, now a deep red. Licking his lips and panting slightly, Stiles tried to come down from what he could only describe as a high. 

*

In some ways, Stiles supposed that he is lucky. For starters, it was the summer break between his senior year of high school and his freshman year of college. Not a better time to completely change into a supernatural creature. Plus, he could lie to his dad and say that he was spending a few weeks with the pack at the Hale house. Somehow, all of his packmates welcomed him with open arms.

Stiles was also very grateful that the Hollywood version of vampires is way off based. Stiles can still go outside (slathered in sunblock thanks to his new, somehow paler skin) and enjoy as much garlic on his pizza as he wanted. For the most part, he also looked normal unless he was high on blood or blood lust.

What Stiles wasn’t grateful for was that same blood lust. It took a week for him and the pack to realize that he needed blood every day in order to stop him from changing into his full form and attempting to hunt down the nearest human. It was always Peter that offered up his blood to the young vampire. Stiles tried not to dwell on that, though.

The high off of blood wasn’t very fun for Stiles either. It always made him feel giddy and horny. Like he popped a male enhancement pill and chugged at least three energy drinks. Which is what he was feeling right now, as he was straddling Peter’s lap and lazily licking the last of the blood trickling down Peter’s neck.

“Feeling better, Stiles?” Peter whispered into Stiles’ ear, nose tickling the side of his cheek.

Stiles nodded as he pulled back to face the werewolf with hooded crimson eyes and his breath hitching. The fangs were still out, stark against his dark lips, now always bruised from feeding so regularly. 

Peter slumped back onto the library loveseat, where he was previously reading his newest rare book purchase about a certain Vladacus before Stiles dropped his own book and almost ran across the room to get on his lap. 

Still high from his feeding, Stiles followed Peter’s movement forward so that their faces were so close that their noses were only just barely touching. Humming, he moved his tight supernatural hold from Peter’s arms to around Peter’s neck as he smoothly slid his ass against the other man’s groin.

Growling at the contact and tightening his own grip on Stiles’ thighs, Peter muttered Stiles’ given name, almost as a warning. 

Not one to ever listen to warnings, Stiles purred in response, still-red eyes twinkling with mischief. His lips twisted into a smirk around his fangs when he caught the musty scent of Peter’s obvious arousal. Peter moved forward, pressing his chapped lips against Stiles’ own, still wet from blood.

Softly moaning from the contact, Stiles kissed back roughly. The vampire fangs grazed Peter’s bottom lip and mixed fresh blood with their saliva. Desperately, he pushed his tongue against Peter’s lips. 

Taking control, Peter flipped them over and trapped Stiles between himself and the loveseat as he deepened the kiss. His hips rolled to move his boner against Stiles’ own.

Stiles moaned deeply at the contact. Combined with the blood in his mouth and the way that their scents were mixing, it was too much. Digging his claws into Peter’s neck, Stiles came with a whimper.

“Well, that’s new,” Peter said in his usual sarcastic tone as he smirked down at the shaking vampire.

Regaining control of his own body again, Stiles’ eyes turned back to their normal honey brown as he glared at the offensive werewolf. “How dare you take advantage of me in that state,” he all but growled out, pushing and kicking Peter until the warm, heavy body was off of them.

Not fazed in the slightest, Peter turned back to his book, still smirking. “You seemed to enjoy yourself.”

If he could still blush, Stiles was sure he would be as red as a beet right now. Unable to look Peter in the face, Stiles left the room as gracefully as someone could with cum drying in their boxers.

*

“What?”

Stiles glared at his best friend and alpha, Scott. “I said that I can’t drink Peter’s blood anymore, please appoint someone else. Anyone else.”

The alpha shoved more fries into his mouth, looking almost in thought. The vampire shivered at the thought. They were currently having bro time at their favorite diner. Well, it used to be Stiles’ favorite too but now the scents just make him want to puke.

“What’s wrong with Peter’s blood? It has been fine for the last two weeks.” Scott was now giving him the worrying puppy-dog eyes.

The truth was that the blood turned him on too much. And, to make matters worse, Stiles couldn’t find any scrap of information about blood affecting a vampire in that way. Coughing to try to hide his embarrassment, Stiles said “Peter’s blood is fine. I just… don’t want to hurt him, you know?” Inwardly, he winced at his excuse.

“Stiles. I know he’s not the easiest pack member to get along with, but he’s that one that volunteered first. You’re not hurting him.”

Hearing Scott’s alpha tone, Stiles nodded weakly and agreed with his fate.

*

Later that night, he found Peter alone in the kitchen, silently cooking what smelled like pasta. He rolled his eyes when he realized Peter wasn’t wearing a shirt. No decency among wolves. Deciding to act like an adult, Stiles entered the room and hopped on the kitchen counter next to the shocked werewolf. “That smells good.” 

“It is good,” Peter responded curtly as he stirred the pot, not looking at Stiles. “Are you here for a refill?”

“I can hang out with you without sucking your blood,” Stiles responded with a huff.

With that, Peter turned to Stiles with his trademarked smirk. “Oh really?” he whispered as he placed himself between Stiles. Grabbing a handful of hair, he shoved Stiles’ face down to his neck. “Prove it to me.”

The scent of fresh blood so close to his face made Stiles almost choke. He whined at the blood lust welling up deep inside of them. Shuddering he felt the now familiar changes in his teeth and eyes. Opening his mouth he leaned forward and-

With a hard tug on his hair, Peter shoved Stiles’ head against the black cabinets. The werewolf’s eyes trailed up and down the vampire’s jerking form. Vampire red met werewolf blue. “God, you’re drooling,” Peter growled out, wiping away the substance from Stiles’ chin.

Stiles growled and struggled against the hold, going for the nearby thumb. He directed his snarl at Peter’s smirking face when he failed. Despite the furious look, Stiles’ was holding Peter in place with his legs around his waist and soft, almost lovingly, touches to the werewolf’s bare chest.

“You’re such a blood slut,” Peter said as his free hand trailed down Stiles’ front half. “Already hard, baby boy?” Roughly, Peter shoved Stiles’ face down on the crook of his neck.

Fangs crashed down and Stiles moaned into the neck, sloppily drinking down the offered blood. Shaking in pleasure, the vampire held on to Peter has if his life depended on it. Too soon, the wound started to close and he couldn’t help but whimper at the loss. 

Peter gently pulled Stiles back by his hair again and smirked down at the sight in front of him. Humming, he leaned forward to Stiles’ neck and kissed a line up it, softly teasing him.

Stiles took a stuttering breath, still too overwhelmed with pleasure. He needed to cum, now. But he was too stubborn to admit it. “...your pasta burned,” Stiles whispered, voice breaking.

“I have the only meal I need right here,” Peter said, growling low in his throat as he lifted Stiles up by his legs and carried him to his bed.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on my Teen Wolf shipping [Tumblr](https://stilesshipper.tumblr.com/)


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